


The Birdflower Lullaby

by TheyCalledHerCarrie



Category: Phantom of the Opera (2004)Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: 2004 movie, Angels, Angst, Character Death, Death, Drama, Erik - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Gore, Illness, Inspired by a MovieFanfiction, Multi, Music, Original Character - Freeform, Original Character(s), Other, Phantom of the Opera - Freeform, Romance, Sadness, Sex, Violence, opera - Freeform, original concept, poto, triangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyCalledHerCarrie/pseuds/TheyCalledHerCarrie
Summary: Be prepared when reading this fic, that there are SEVERAL graphic themes spattered throughout this work of fiction. It explores dark things, and mental illness, but also art and passion and romance.This work of fiction is suitable for mature audiences only, and of course lovers of the many variations of POTO. You will notice a lot of general structuring around the 2004 film but also influences from other versions, and lots of original takes on things as well. My focus is to the 2004 film due to it being one of the most visually romantic versions, while the writing will be more graphically depictive than the romantic film appeared.You will find many references within this series to other things you may or may not know, though some inspiration for this book also comes from the story of Alice and her looking glass.The idea with this work of fiction is to take modern and old themes, and meld them together. To take characters that are incredibly flawed and imperfect, and set them loose on each other.In this story, we will be exploring the dark, and complicated romance of The Phantom of the Opera Populaire. Only, not quite to Christine. To someone arguably just as disturbed as France's Opera Ghost.





	1. Cuckoo Bird

**Author's Note:**

> As some of you may know, this is a reboot of a fic I had already started before, but hurried into too much. So for some of you, there will be some familiarity. For those who are new, welcome!
> 
> Comments are really appreciated and actually desired. Knowing people read really helps keep me going. Tell me you liked it, guess what happens next, ask me questions I may or may not answer. Feel free to favorite and share with your friends as well.
> 
> If you're poto trash like me, you'll hopefully enjoy this fic of mine <3   
Much love-  
Jasperr

Birdflower:  
In reference to something called a Green Birdflower. It's a shrub plant that grows hummingbird shaped blooms. Pictured right here!

Dr Guggug uf em düüre  
sideli fädeli rum rum rum  
Dr Guggug uf em düüre Ast  
Wenn's rägnet wird är  
sideli fädeli rum rum rum  
Wenn's rägnet wird är nass.

Da chunnt e liebe Sunne  
sideli fädeli rum rum rum  
Da chunnt e liebe Sunneschyn  
Und macht das Vögeli wieder  
sideli fädeli rum rum rum  
Und macht das Vögeli wieder fyn.  
­­______________________________________________________  
The cuckoo on the thin  
see-de-lee fedelee rum rum rum  
The cuckoo on the thin branch  
When it rains, he  
see-de-lee fedelee rum rum rum  
When it rains, he gets wet.

There comes the dear sun  
see-de-lee fedelee rum rum rum  
There comes the dear sunshine  
And makes the birdie  
see-de-lee fedelee rum rum rum  
And makes the birdie good again.

** _"For my precious little Primrose. Less like a flower and more like a cuckoo little birdie...."_ **

** _((Song: https://youtu.be/-QORLO7lRZU ))_ **


	2. XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for continuing to read, please leave a comment if you like ♡

Clarice loved to dance. She was a ballerina... Is. Is a ballerina. Her mother had once been too. And her father had once enjoyed watching her every performance. She was their delicate little flower. Their pretty little bird who sang and flew every free, waking moment of her life. Things have changed a lot since her nineteenth birthday. The day she finally gets to go home... She should be happy.  
Her Home is no longer where she thought it was. Her father re-married. The last time Clarice had seen him, she was 14. They move to a sunny little house in beautiful Chartres. She should be happy.  
Into her possession fell some very mysterious items. Items that would plunge her into a realm that was brighter, stranger, more sinister and entirely more brilliant than she could have ever imagined. Many would say she was just crazy. But that sweet music was real, it wasn't hers, as much as she wanted it to be. She pretended it was, it made her happy. She should be happy.  
It was the music of the night.


	3. The Tobler Case File

_Clarice Primsie Tobler_  
Swiss-Italian female, admitted at 14 years of age.  
Eyes: Brown  
Hair: Black (Exhibits Antoinette syndrome)  
Height: 4'11  
Weight: 100lbs  
Overseeing Physician: Dr. Annalei Baumann  
  
Diagnosis:  
psychosis  
Possible symptoms include delusions, hallucinations, talking incoherently, and agitation. The person with the condition usually isn't aware of his or her behavior.  
Behavioral: aggression, agitation, disorganized behavior, hostility, hyperactivity, hypervigilance, lack of restraint, nonsense word repetition, persistent repetition of words or actions, repetitive movements, restlessness, self-harm, or social isolation  
Cognitive: belief that an ordinary event has special and personal meaning, belief that thoughts aren't one's own, confusion, difficulty thinking and understanding, disorientation, false belief of superiority, memory loss, racing thoughts, slowness in activity, thought disorder, thoughts of suicide, or unwanted thoughts  
Mood: anger, anxiety, apathy, excitement, feeling detached from self, general discontent, limited range of emotions, loneliness, or nervousness  
Psychological: depression, fear, hearing voices, manic episode, paranoia, persecutory delusion, religious delusion, or visual hallucinations  
Speech: deficiency of speech, excessive wordiness, incoherent speech, or rapid and frenzied speaking

  
_schizoaffective  
Believed to have caused her to develop a psychosis issues, as is fairly common in severe patients.  
Cycles of severe symptoms are often followed by periods of improvement. Symptoms may include delusions, hallucinations, depressed episodes, and manic periods of high energy  
Cognitive: belief that an ordinary event has special and personal meaning, delusion, false belief of superiority, racing thoughts, thought disorder, or thoughts of suicide  
Mood: anxiety, euphoria, hopelessness, limited range of emotions, loss of interest or pleasure in activities, or mood swings  
Psychological: depression, grandiosity, hallucination, hearing voices, paranoia, or psychosis  
Behavioral: impulsivity, restlessness, self-harm, social isolation, or sudden increases in energy  
Also common: appetite changes or rapid and frenzied speaking  
  
Patient often exhibits swings of severe aggression following therapy. Heavy sedation is suggested after treatments have been completed.  
  
Sun exposure is to be limited due to various sensitivities_  
_Activity is to be monitored due to heightened fatigue from Anemia_  
  
Dietary requirements:  
Allergic to strawberries  
Digestive issues with meats  
Allergic to dairy


	4. 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! A day later than scheduled, a little short, aaaaand not to the fun stuff yet. But I'm giving my Ghost of the Past fic a proper reboot, and have a small outline running now And a friend helping me organize and inspire. Thank you to those, old and new, who are coming around for this poto trash I've created for you. Feel free to favorite it, and please, please, please leave a comment!
> 
> Much love,   
Carrie

The room they're in is very sterile. Like the rest of the building, the institute cloaked in a very pure white and luminescent red. You would think they could have gone with another color. Anything but red. The plastic chair she sits in is rough, uncomfortable. The bottoms of her upper thighs are tacky against it. The heat is up too high to be in a stuffy paper textured hospital gown. Or maybe it just feels that way to her.

"Miss Tobler--"

The plastic bracelet around her wrist is thick and makes an amusing noise as she rolls it through her fingers, making use of the gap between her bony wrist and the bracelet.

"Miss Tobler."

One of her nails is chipped. She presses the groove against the edge of her bracelet, click, click, click, rubs it back and forth.

"Miss T--"

"Miss Tobler vas my mother. Mrs., if you vill." Her eyes drifted up for a second, ink brown depths staring first at the pristine woman behind her desk and then the shiny lens resting on a short tripod on top of it. The overhead lights cast shadows into the hallows under her eyes, making her look a little gaunt.

"Protocol has us address all patients by their last name, miss Tobler-"

"I never have been one for protocol. Is it really so hard to say 'Hallo, Clarice'? Dr. Lecter did it and he vas for the most part.. refined gentleman of pleasant company. I can't say the same for you, Annalei." Her full lips parted, upturned to show off a mostly white and neat smile. Her canines dipped just into the egdes of her lips. It was short lived, her mouth was chapped and the action stretched the skin to slight discomfort. 

"Dr. Baumann." The physician replied curtly, pushing up her glasses and sighing. "Miss Tobler. Do you know why I've called you here into my office?"

"Yes, you are thinking about releasing me back into the devoted und loving arms of der Vati. Because you think I am reformed enough to turn back into an upstanding citizen und am no longer a threat to any of my sviss-german brothers und sisters." Clarice twisted idly at her hair, staring at the ash spattered lengths fraying between her fingers.

"Yes, I am thinking this. But if you can't comply with our routine release interview we may very well not be excusing you from our care." Dr. Baumann spoke, stacking a neat collection of folders onto one corner of her desk 

The woman snorted softly, releasing her hair and sighing. "Yes, you're right. Go on then."

The doctor sighed this time, starting the camera up to record with a swift press of a button. Clearing her throat softly, she clicked her pen and opened the top folder.

"The date is 23rd August. Patient release interview overseen by Dr. Annalei Baumann. Please state your name, age, and location for me."

"My name is Clarice Primsie Tobler. I'm nineteen years old und ve're in Privatklink Meiringen in cool, cloudy Svitzerland."

"Do you believe you are ready to be released back into the general public?"

"Ja Kommandant," she replied with a twitch of her mouth again, staring boredly into the camera. "I am new voman, reborn und ready to have my ass slapped und passed off to the next caretaker."

The doctor, unnamused by her levels of sarcasm, plowed onward.

"Do you know why you were admitted here, and do you believe the treatment you recieved here to have cured you of these ailments?"

"I believe..." Clarice leaned back, fixating on a corner of the ceiling now. "I believe that I have been deemed manageable enough to be safe und sane for the better of myself und others und that my time here has thankfully reached its end. There is nothing else that this centre can do to me."

"For."

"Mm?" Her eyes fixed back on the doctor.

"There is nothing else that this centre can do for you."

"Yes." She smiled again, absently. "Of course."

Satisfied, the doctor stopped the recording and closed her folder. She smiled now too. Just as falsely, in Clarice's opinion. She rose from the desk and smoothed down the wrinkles of her white uniform and ushered Clarice to stand as well. "Congratulations, Miss Tobler. You are ready to be released into the care of your father now. He should be waiting in the lobby for us where we will administer your last dose of medication and prescriptions, and will send you on your way home."

"Wunderbar." She responded dryly, her worn pink slippers shuffling across the shiny tile floor. They were bunnies with happy little bows on one ear. Faded in color, the same ones she had been admitted in with at 14.

5 years...

"Please remember, you must keep up your fluids, and keep your direct exposure to harsh elements to a minimum. As for your hair, I am afraid there is nothing else to do but… medications and hope that your… pigments. Remember in the meantime, your hair and your skin is too delicate for harsh chemicals so no dyes. Our recommendations are… a minumum of at least eight hours bedrest…."

The doctor's voice faded in and out as Clarice chose to half listen as she trailed after her slowly. She was tired, and wanted to sleep. Tonight she wondered how it would be to sleep in her own bed again. In her own clothes, with her own sheets and her own privacy. In the quiet with her papa next door...

When had she last seen her father? She hadn't had any visitation in a long time... a year, maybe two. Time blurred by here. She rubbed at the gauze around her wrists and watched her bow bearing bunnies flit in and out of her sight as she watched her feet take each step forward. She stopped when the doctor did, staring down at the counter now and trying to hold her train of thought. What would she do when they returned home? She was nearly twenty. No job, no hobbies, friends, or schooling. School.... she had to finish high school still, the old fashioned way, to make up some credits. She had done studies while she was here, but after the first three years she had given up on the supposed homeschooling. That was after her papa stopped visiting...

"Gute Morge, mein Schatz." He murmured affectionately, dipping his head to press a kiss to her hair. He smelled like cigarettes and redwood, and bits of shavings still clung to his leather coat and the chesnut curls of his hair. The typical looks of a carpentry artist. Unkempt and aalmost a little dirty, but charming. "Ready to go home?" 

She missed that smell. "Yes." She smiled a little, frowning shortly after as the doctor handed her the tiny paper cup that held two medium sized pills. 

"A very mild sedative, to keep you calm. It's my professional opinion that the flight will go over much better if you are kept calm leaving here. That way there is no stress to adjust until you're home safely. Your father has agreed."

Flight? But they didn't even live but a few hours drive from the institute.

She took the cup but did not make any move to swallow the pills, eyes narrowing questioningly at her father, who suddenly looked a little uncomfortable.

"I hadn't told her yet." He confessed in his soft gruffness to the doctor who pressed herloips together and busied herself with getting clarice a wheelchair to leave in, per protocol.

"Clarice, Love. I sold the house..."

"You... vhat?" The question came slowly, her fingers curling around the paper cup with the pills and squishing it slowly. 

"Yes, last year. We'll be moving all the way to Chartres."

Chartres was in France. Something that should have excited her, except she was in shock. Clarice sank into the offered wheelchair, a little dazed. "Mutter loved that house-"

"We all did, but it was time to move on, Clarice. Too many sad memories. Elsie and I, we plan on making new-"

"Elsie?" Her head swung around to stare at her father as he began to sign her release paperwork. His eyes closed and he almost flinched, realized his mistake. He had never been good about words. Or lies. "Who the Fuck is Elsie?" 

Her father hushed her as a few visiting people stared on their way past. Her voice, even at its hoarse hiss, echoed in the mostly empty lobby.

"W h o?" She insisted again sharper, louder.

"Elsie is my fiancé." He grunted finally, signjng the last paper with a flourish of his messh signature before he grabbed her chair and began to wheel them out. "I will explain everything to you but a lot has happened in the last couple years while you were away, love."

"You mean while you had me put away." He replied bitterly. Opened her hand back up, uncrumpled the cup and swallowed the pills down dry with a hard gulp.

He slowed a little and sighed. "Clarice--"

"I don't want to talk. Just go." She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed too. "I'm tired, papa..."


End file.
